


Pieces of Jyn Erso

by xanthicus



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied Relationships, supposed to be canon but I'm a fallible human being so I'm sorry if it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanthicus/pseuds/xanthicus
Summary: The feeling haunts Jyn all her life. She is weary of living with such burdens, but at the same time fears that without them she wouldn’t be able to recognize herself.





	Pieces of Jyn Erso

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! This story or project had been floating around in my documents for a while, so it is exciting to finally publish it on AO3. I wanted to experiment with styling and repetition so by all means, it's still long ways from anywhere near perfect. 
> 
> This is definitely more of a character study of Jyn than anything, and mostly pulls canon info from the Rogue One novelization and a bit from other content. While adding a few of my own original scenes, I did my best to stay within the canon realm, but I apologize in advance if there are any discontinuity errors. I hope that you enjoy this alphabet patchwork nonetheless.

**Alone**

According to the chrono Jyn had packed in her rucksack, she has been in hiding for nearly ten standard days before Saw Gerrera finally retrieves her as per his instruction. Before that suffocating hatch is finally lifted and she is given explicit permission to climb out. 

She had been eating bland rations for the entire time she is underground. She is able to stand up when she needs to stretch her legs, but there is little room to even walk around. The shivers that run down her spine and reverberate through her brittle bones have become something like second nature. Jyn had stopped thinking anything of it after the fourth day. 

But now there stands Saw Gerrera, looming over her like a curious giant. Her savior, Saw Gerrera. He has a look of pity in his eyes but says nothing to cement his sympathy. He merely nods at her and beckons for her to follow him. Jyn obeys without one resisting word. Already, Jyn is like a soldier under his authority.

She follows him for years out of fear of ever ending up by herself under a cold hatch again. 

**Burns**

And first it burns like the memory of losing her father and then it is warm like when she finally finds him after all those long years.

It first burns seeing her mother shot dead and then warm when Saw Gerrera would tell her stories at night to help her forget about bad dreams.

It burns when her first love is killed and diminished into dust. It is warm when she dreams old memories of him. 

Burns when she knows she is about to die. Warm when she remembers she did not have to do it alone.

Jyn Erso closes her burning stardust eyes and all is warm.

 **Comrades**

Her dreams often revolve around her old friends.

Jyn has never been fond of Codo, who took it upon himself to badger her about every little habit she has, but his permanent absence leaves her solemn. She supposes maybe he meant more to her than she had previously thought. The strongest lingering memory she has of him is when he attempted to kiss her on a moonlit night as they swam in the muddy grotto.

Jyn had dipped under the water and swam away before his wet lips could find hers. Conversations had stopped between them after the incident. So did his badgering.

She wonders if she had simply kissed him, maybe he would still be alive. His life might have taken a different trajectory. Or maybe she would be dead along side him as well.

There are dreams about another boy who was like an older brother to her. His name was Staven, and he was a natural leader. He lacked the cold strictness of Codo but echoed the discipline of Saw Gerrera. She thinks in a different life, if she had never been spirited away from Lah’mu, she might have had a brother exactly like Staven. 

Then there was Maia, who was like a sister, an angel, a comforter, a light, a soothing remedy to counter the harsh life of the insurgency. Her death was the hardest to cope with, because Jyn had been there to witness all of it on Inusagi. Maia only a few steps behind her. 

Maia is there, a few steps behind, and then she is not. 

The people around her take up a cruel pattern of being and suddenly not being; the cycle haunts Jyn in waking and dreaming for the rest of her life. 

**Director**

There they are. The two of them face off at the top of the comm tower on Scarif while a war continues and escalates below them. He is pointing his blaster towards her, and Jyn wonders if the bastard recognizes her mother in her.

Murderer.

Jyn sneers and there is something black boiling in her heart.

He is the man in white. Her mother’s killer. Her father’s kidnapper. The catalyst that started it all.

When he looks at her, Jyn understands the implications of his expression, that far-off stare that says I do not know you. She is offended by it, infuriated most of all. She feels entitled to witness his horror when she declares that she is Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen and Lyra.

For Jyn, the man in white has no name, but his face alone is enough. 

**Eadu**

There is a relentless tempest when they land. Jyn thought she was prepared, but now that she is standing on the platform fully revealed to the Imperial scum, she doubts her resolve.

But he is right there. More than an apparition. More than a nightmare. Flesh and bone. Erso blood. 

He looks at her in disbelief, a mirror of herself. She is too far away to say a clear word to him, but she feels like she can hear his thoughts despite the distance. Jyn. My Jyn, I’m sorry.

“If you’re happy, Jyn, then that’s more than enough,” she remembers the hologram saying. The bitterness wells up in her and her heart is ramming against her ribcage. She wants to throw his words aside yet wants nothing more than to run into his arms. Her own voice sounds distant even to herself as she cries out for him like a lost child.

More than just her heart breaks on Eadu as the Imperial base is engulfed in flames and gunfire. The torrent of rain and wind smothers her spirit along with the life of her father.

**Force**

The Rogue One crew, the name aptly improvised by Bodhi Rook, is a few hours away from planetfall on Scarif. Everyone on board is tense, even the perpetually serene Chirrut Îmwe. Kay-Tu has taken it upon himself to assume piloting the cargo shuttle so that Bodhi could attempt to rest before entering hellfire. Baze Malbus is dismantling his weapons, cleaning the parts, and double-checking the mods before painstakingly having to reassemble them. At least it keeps him thoroughly distracted and focused.

Jyn has tucked herself away in a tight corner of the cargo hold. She wants to be away from the misfit team for a bit. She wants to be alone for what may be the last time. She wants to actually rest.

Except her nerves and fears keep her alert and unfortunately, wide awake.

She pulls at her hair, the pain at her roots somewhat helps to relieve the intense irritation wracking her brain.

Chirrut’s continuous chanting fills the air of the shuttle.

She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up. The Captain is kneeling, frowning at her that same concerned, doubtful look he always has. Jyn wants to laugh at herself when she mentally admits it’s kind of charming. 

No. She is delirious; she is afraid.

“How are you?” 

Something in her gut clenches at the way his voice sounds and she shrinks into herself. 

“Managing.” There is a pause.

“Thank you,” she stammers, startling him and herself. Her brows furrow, and a brief, perplexed frown crosses her face as she struggles to voice her thoughts. She remembers back to only a few hours ago when the captain had approached her with a crew of volunteers. “For coming. For… believing.”

He shrugs. “Someone had to.”

Jyn laughs wryly at his indifference. The Captain seats himself next to her and he fiddles with his blaster. She keeps her eyes on the floor and focuses on Chirrut’s chants to prevent her thoughts from straying too far. Except she can’t, because from her periphery, all she can see is a mousy captain fiddling excessively with his damn blaster.

“Stop that,” she huffs. “Before you accidentally set it off.”

“Sorry.” A moment passes before he shoots her an indignant look. “It would never accidentally happen anyway.”

Jyn rolls her eyes and snorts. “We’re only hours away from a suicide mission, and you’re… talking to me.”

“I guess even after everything that has happened, I still haven’t gotten you figured out, Jyn Erso. You had— have every reason to not do this.”

It was her turn to shrug. “Someone has to.” There is a challenging gleam in her eye, one that hasn’t surfaced in years, as she turns to meet his eyes. “How much do you think you have figured?”

“You make it a goal to be the most insufferable person in the room.”

“That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me,” she replies dryly. There is a moment where neither say nor do anything, until Jyn cracks a sheepish smile and he follows suit. 

“I think,” he starts then hesitates. A nervous laughs escapes his mouth. “I don’t have a clue how we’re going to come back from this one.”

“I thought we were all going to die on Jedha. Call it a miracle, I guess. Seems like a matter of time before our luck runs out.”

“Will it ever end?” The captain doesn’t specify, but nevertheless, Jyn is able to understand the gist of his vague question. Will the galactic war ever end? Will the constant fear of unjust death ever end? Will the good ever win?

Jyn understands his query and searchers for an answer. She feels compelled to say what she truly feels. It may be her last time, after all. To speak her truth.

“I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you what I think. It’s never going to end. Our galaxy— our universe is slave to a cycle with no end. It doesn’t matter if you believe in the Light or the Dark. It’s just the way our realm functions. 

“But can you imagine a world where only good exists? It would be an ignorant kind of place, to say the least. Blinded even. It’s not that I don’t want good guys to prevail… Evil is inevitable, and with no evil, no bad, no suffering, and no death: we’d be flat beings. We would never know ourselves as we do now. 

“So give me all of it, even the parts I hate. I’d rather carry burdens than live as a fool.”

The look of bewilderment on the Captain’s face embarrasses her, making her wonder if she had said too much. He slowly blinks away his stunned expression, allowing her words to sink in. 

“It’s funny. I think before Wobani, I would’ve definitely chosen to be the fool.” Her sarcasm is already functional once again. It’s the only way she knows how to change the mood of the conversation. 

“You would make a good diplomat with those fighting words.”

“Oh, switch off,” she snaps. 

“Trade your blaster with me,” he orders, and before she can even respond, he is already grabbing her blaster and replacing it with his. She notices that his is the newer improved model. 

“Why?”

There is a long pause. Like he doesn’t know what kind of reply he wants to give. 

“For luck.”

Every muscle in her body tenses at the phrase. Her heart wants to weep, but for Jyn, tears have been long extinct. In her thoughts, there is a brief flash of a fond memory of a girl with a toothy smile and a dark flower that she had seen somewhere once many years ago. She doesn’t fight the memory, but rather lets its nostalgia wash over her. 

Her heart squeezes painfully. She remembers how that memory ends.

They cease exchanging words and the conversation ends peacefully rather than abruptly, as if it gently ebbed away before the two even realized it. There is no necessity for anything else to be said, and Jyn is comforted by the silence between them as if it emanated their agreement of mutual understanding.

He returns to fidgeting with her blaster, or his now technically. Jyn leans her head against the cool metal of the wall panel and closes her eyes. Chirrut’s mantra once again enters her focus and eventually she drifts into sleep for the last time. 

**Gerrera**

When Jyn sees Saw Gerrera again, she thinks father. While growing up under the solemn, watchful eye of the Saw Gerrera, she learns sometimes things went beyond the blood in her veins. Since having left that treacherous hatch, Gerrera enlightens her that she is much more than the great Erso offspring.

She was a rebel. She was her own spirit. She was Jyn. She is Jyn Erso.

Saw teaches her to accept the parts of herself: the bits she hates, the pieces she loves.

He teaches her how to shoot a blaster after many months of her insistence. The safety is there. Always check your heat gauge. Do not hesitate on the trigger.

It takes her several attempts, but she eventually manages to intentionally hit one of the targets. She turns to Saw immediately, her eyes wild with excitement, and he meets her gaze, full of pride himself. 

At first, Saw is reluctant to let her participate in Partisan-related activities and missions, but she falls into so easily— so naturally, Saw forgets his worries and raises her to be a warrior. 

The face of her real father begins to mean less and less to her with each passing year she spends with Saw. Jyn never tells him about how she would have dreams of her name actually being Jyn Gerrera. In her sleep, sometimes the name Erso meant nothing to her. Lah’mu wasn’t real. The man in white was simply another reiteration of the bogeyman. 

She keeps it tucked away in her heart, something she shared with another being only once. She never talks about it again, but as she’s staring at the frail, misshapen Saw Gerrera, Jyn understands she’ll never have the chance to tell him. 

The regret of wasting precious time in being enraptured by her own shock makes her angry, and she shakes the Captain off as he tries to pull her away— away from her father. 

The Holy City of Jedha is hurtling towards them in an unfathomable wave of dirt and death, Jyn is trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he will never know. 

“Go, Jyn!” he rasps. His eyes are pleading with her, and Jyn stops struggling, defeated. He will never know. 

The Captain pulls on her arm again, and this time she falls in line, rising up on her feet, but her eyes remain locked with Saw’s. She can’t find her words no matter how badly she wants to.

“Save yourself. Please.”

She knows it’s his final command and she hates it. By obeying, she feels like she has allowed herself to re-join the blasted Rebellion that she had worked so tediously to escape from. 

Jyn gnaws on her lips and allows herself to be pulled away to the real fight. She wills herself to not look back. She steels her mind and heart and the memories are once again tucked away.

 **Hadder**

She is sixteen and Saw Gerrera abandons her with only a blaster. There is no grand farewell. There is no  until we meet again. 

When Jyn grows comfortable living with the mother-son duo, she decides that she is content. She finds that a simple life with her surrogate family on the nowhere planet Skuhl is perfectly fine. Jyn doesn’t need a futile rebel group, she doesn’t need parents, and she doesn’t need a traitor like Saw Gerrera.

"If you were so interested,” Hadder pries, “why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Because if you didn't want me, you would break my heart and potentially my body."

"Who's to say I won't do that anyway?"

There is a challenging gleam in Jyn’s eyes. “You can do whatever you want to my body."

There is a dwindling of self-preservation and of the desire to keep surviving whenever Jyn thinks of Hadder. In the back of her mind, there is always a nagging thought of how her life could have been simpler if she had just had the opportunity to be vaporized on that damn freighter with him. 

Jyn would have been with him and she would have not felt so alone.

**Instructions**

It can be destroyed. Someone has to destroy it.

Deep down, Jyn carries her doubt, but as she hears her father’s earnest, dying, and frail words on Eadu, she forces herself to obey them. He left her the pieces, and she decides she has to be the one to pick them up. 

The intense scrutiny of the Alliance council nearly steals her words away, but one encouraging look from Mon Mothma pulls her feet back to the ground. 

The pieces float around in her head, and the anxiety makes her feel inebriated. But she manages to speak. She barely manages to deliver. 

**Jedha**

Jyn thinks she has seen destruction. 

But she realizes real destruction is something much different. She meets the eyes of two mourning Guardians of the Whills, and she can’t fully comprehend the magnitude of their sorrow. She suddenly feels grateful that she never held onto many things, but it also feels like a shame she never allowed herself such a luxury in the first place. 

She has managed to guard the depths of her heart. Losing so much, all in one tumultuous swoop, she doesn’t think she could survive it.

The misfit squadron is sitting in the cargo hold as they ride through the quiet hum of hyperspace, the memory of a desert moon heavy on their minds.

**Kyber**

The old man smiles at her. She approaches him warily, taking note of how his eyes seem to pierce through her. 

“The strongest stars have hearts of kyber,” he says with a peculiar knowing gleam in his glossy eyes. 

The man is nothing more than stranger, but his words dig deep. Her mother’s necklace feels so heavy around her neck, Jyn thinks she might shatter under the weight right here and now. 

**Lillian**

The more time that passes, the less she cares.

The more names she adds to her collection, the deeper Jyn tries to bury Jyn Erso.

Yet every time, her efforts are spurned and she is brought back to right where she started. 

**Mama**

Jyn feels guilty that she doesn’t actually remember much about her mother. She had no pictures when she was transported off Lah’mu, so the image of her mother has faded from her memory over the years. Saw Gerrera told her she was almost like a reflection of her mother. In appearance and in heart.

The sentiments lift her mood and even though her mother is fading into the forgettable cosmos, Jyn continues to hold on as tight as she can.

 **Nightbloom**

Jakku is a shitshow to say the least. Jyn still doesn’t understand the importance of this particular Western Reach planet. It is quite literally a rock floating in space with the most elusive watering holes and possible myths of any plant life. She can’t believe that at some point in time, millennia ago, the planet had been able to sustain lush forests. The longer she is there, the stronger her longing for Lah’mu and family, and that in turn frustrates her because she doesn’t want to ever think about those things. 

In short, Jyn kriffing hates Jakku. 

She is second-in-command to the squadron of Saw Gerrera’s rebels, but she is second to last in the group as they march over and down the sand dunes of the Goazon Badlands. Stamina had never really been a problem for Jyn, but there is something extensively draining about long treks in zero humidity heat. 

The mission goal is to survey and report rumored Imperial activity near the outskirts of Niima Outpost. 

Jyn finishes her third and last canteen of water two hours after planetfall, and she is irritable. There is no reservation in her string of curses. 

“This is kriffing bantha shit,” she spits, earning a sheepish smile from Maia who is not struggling nearly as badly as her friend.

“C’mon now, Jyn. You’ve weathered worse.”

Jyn coughs out a mirthless laugh then grimaces. “One would be stupid to call this weather.”

Maia laughs at her remark. There is something about the girl’s optimism and enthusiasm that makes Jyn feel embarrassed about herself. She mutters something under her breath and sniffs.

There is a startled gasp. “Oh, Jyn. Your nose is bleeding.”

“Son of a bantha.”

Jyn feels the dribble of blood down her lip and quickly tips her head back, pinching the bridge of her nose. She can feel Maia’s concerned hands around her shoulders, and the two of them slow to a stop. The rest of the squadron follow suit and turn to the duo.

“Sorry, Staven,” Jyn says with a grimace. 

Maia is trying to pry Jyn’s hands away from her face. “You should lean forward. Otherwise you’ll just swallow all the blood.”

“I am quite thirsty.”

“Jyn.”

“Guess this is best a time as any to squeeze a break in. You’ve got twenty minutes to stop that nosebleed,” Staven orders. The squadron settles down between a grouping of boulders, using their surroundings to conceal their presence from any potential Imperial scouts. 

Jyn and Maia sit next to each other, huddled in their own spot away from the rest of the squad.

Jyn spies something creeping out from between the cracks of a split rock and she nods towards it. “What is that?”

“Why, it’s a nightbloomer,” Maia realizes cheerily. She rises from her seat on the boulder and kneels down next to the scraggly plant to get a better look. “It’s one of the few flowering fauna out here in Jakku. I heard they’re quite rare, so this might be our lucky day.” 

“It’s ugly.”

“On the contrary, I think they’re beautiful in their own way. I can’t imagine any kind of flower flourishing in this heat, but the nightblossoms do. I admire them for that.”

Jyn scrunches her nose. “They’re just plants.”

Maia waves off her pessimism and picks one blossom, the dry crack of the dark reddish-purple petiole resonating through the quiet desert air. She pushes Jyn’s hair back, not even flinching despite the amount of dirty sweat that sticks to Jyn’s skin, and tucks the stem of the blossom behind her ear. 

“For luck.”

Jyn scowls at her but shows no intent to remove the dried flower. Not after seeing Maia smile so sweetly and kindly. She looks so out of place in this god-forsaken desert. In this whole Rebellion.

It is one and a half months later on the planet Inusagi that Maia is killed in action. 

**Opus**

The sole gateway into Scarif’s atmosphere is a nightmare in and of itself, and when Bodhi improvises his call sign for clearance, Jyn realizes she can’t remember when she started holding her breath. It is only when the dock officer is convinced and approves their landing, that she releases the lungful of carbon dioxide that has built up inside her. It is relief.

She doesn’t meant to, but as she turns away from the cockpit seat, her eyes meet the Captain’s. Under normal circumstances, she would have shot him a stony glare, but trespassing Imperial defenses is enough to wash away her façade. Jyn grabs his arm and smiles. By the look on his face, he seems to share the same feeling of relief. 

Something about the look on his face steels her determination. She goes through a mental checklist, making sure she is equipped with everything she will need. 

The gate is merely the easiest objective they’ve mapped out for themselves. For there is still a long list of unforgiving work to be done. 

**Papa**

The bond she had with her father was different than the one she had with her mother. Jyn speculates that if they had not been cruelly separated all those years ago, she would have definitely shifted in favor towards her mother. Instead, Jyn lives her early adolescent years with a war group. She stumbles through them, confused and ignorant. 

She remembers the unique warmth of a father’s love. All doting, all gentle, all simple.

Somehow, as Jyn grows up, the opinion she has of her father mutates. Into bitterness. Into anger. 

Then there is news that he is still alive, but essentially as her enemy. The mission to Eadu presents itself as an opportunity for Jyn to scream the wrong that he and everyone else has committed against her. 

Except, when she finds the man in white holding him and his engineers at gun point, something inside her panics, and the impulsive desire to curse her father disappears. She loves her father, even after everything. One look from her father after fifteen years, and Jyn believes it. He still loves her as well, that he had never forgotten his daughter no matter how different she is now. 

She calls him her Papa, like she was still the child on Lah’mu, but it isn’t enough to save his broken soul and body as the proton torpedo hits it mark.

**Quadrivium**

Jyn considers herself a woman of options. Reluctancy is a common aspect in her life. 

They have just returned from Eadu. The captain is immediately whisked away to cement and prepare a report for the debriefing. She is separated from the other three and K-2SO as Intelligence officers swarm them, and she awkwardly shuffles through the bustling crowd of rebels and council members as she finds her way to the briefing room. 

She is sure she will be demanded of to provide her side of the story. She is more sure half of them won’t believe her anyway.

Jyn huffs and as she waits her turn, she contemplates on how she will present herself. A part of her wants to tear the foundation of the Rebellion apart. She wants them to their about their own folly, their hypocrisy, their self-gratification. 

The dying words of her father and ghostly screams of those killed on Jedha ring in her mind, and Jyn hammers down her growing anger. 

Another part of her wants to run away. She is good at running away. 

It is suddenly her turn. Too late to run.

The uncertainty bubbles in her stomach, but she makes her decision and hopes she won’t regret it. 

**Rebels**

She had been a rebel once upon a time. 

She leaves that life behind. She rebels against the Rebellion. She runs for years.

She comes back, battered and beaten; to her chagrin and self-deprecating amusement, still a rebel of the cause at the end of it all. 

**Stardust**

As Jyn grew older with each passing year without her parents, she forgot more often the intensity of her loneliness. Her early teenage years were full of angst and the memory of the two most important people.

Jyn avoids stargazing at night.

Her father used to accompany her to the tall grassy fields that surrounded them on her old home planet, Lah’mu. They would sit as close together as possible and crane their necks toward the night skies so that their eyes could take in the broadest view they could manage.

He used to point to the brightest planets in the sky. He would tell her which ones in the star system were currently in retrograde. Sometimes he would bring along the telescope so he could show her more closely the things of the world that he admired so much.

“Tonight,” he says with an content smile, “a famous meteorite will be passing through.”

“A meteorite?”

“Yes, we’ll be able to see its tail, and I think you will find that it is quite pretty.”

Her eyes glisten with excitement, to which earned a full smile from her father. He pats her head, smoothing down her hair. “But not nearly as pretty as you,” he adds. Jyn grins and latches onto his leg, feeling the soft fabric of his trousers against her cheek. 

“What does its tail look like? Will it be furry like Monae’s?”

Her father laughs and peers into the viewfinder of the telescope, scanning for the meteorite. “It’s not of the furry sort, Stardust.”

“Why do you call me that?”

Her father ushers her towards the telescope and she squints tightly one eye, looking through the lens with the other. She sees the tail, and the glittering colors enrapture her attention. “It’s beautiful!” she cries, turning excitedly to look at her father.

“One day,” he starts, brushing back her bangs, gazing into the warm light in her bright eyes, “when you finally have a family of your own, you will understand exactly why.”

**Together**

It has been a long time— years— since Jyn has felt like she was a part of something. She hates to admit it even to herself, but she likes having someone watch her six. The idea of safety is so foreign to her but it doesn’t take long for her to get comfortable. 

Rogue One, Bodhi Rook said. The squadron name made Jyn want to laugh. The short time they spent on Jedha seems like it had happened months ago, and she wishes maybe it could have been months. She had feared that this would happen. Jyn had grown to like the group of misfits. Even that badmouthed K-2SO.

She is baffled by how a group of strangers would voluntarily choose to march towards certain death together. She wonders where it started. Was it a sense of duty? Was it because of the guilt that if she chose to do nothing, millions would die? Was it for the greater good? Was it her familial obligation to obey her father’s dying words; Saw’s dying words? 

Her thoughts scare her. She doubts her resolve more times than she keep track of. The Jyn Erso she knows would never agree to sacrifice herself. Would never agree to any of the bantha shit that the Alliance stands for. 

Except she gave a speech about needing to protect the galaxy from the threat of a superweapon. About kriffing hope. It is all so incredulous to her, she feels like she is having an out-of-body experience. 

There is a voice screaming in the back of her mind, telling her to stop and turn around. 

She is already plotting with Bodhi on which ship to steal, and Chirrut and Baze are ready to follow her command. They’re about to risk their entire lives because she asked them to. And when the Captain brings a group of volunteers to her, she wants to laugh from disbelief and gratefulness but forces herself to stay composed and leads them to battle. 

**Universe**

Beyond the galactic war, there is something much bigger than them. A harmony that ebbs and flows, pushing ripples through all of them. 

Maia once pondered aloud the inevitability of good and bad occurrences, like they were necessary or else the universe might snap under the tension and implode on itself. 

The bad will happen, but the good will come back eventually. An idea of comfort Jyn carried with her during her time in the Rebellion. 

Except these days, after Lah’mu, after Inusagi, Skuhl, Jedha, Eadu; Jyn feels the scale has tipped towards hell and will never rise back to equilibrium again. 

**Vital**

Jyn struggles with being needed. 

Being needed by people around her. The desire to be needed in the first place. The dilemma of how to act upon being needed. 

She carries in her mind the final message of her father. She thinks having been the only surviving witness of the hologram, it is anathema. A joke. A final comedic jab at her life. 

She reminds herself with a shaky constitution, possibly lying to herself so she could just barely stomach it. 

If I don’t do it, no one else will.

**Wobani**

The labor camp is an odd concoction of the galaxy’s indigenous species. There aren’t too many humanoids in the group, or at least not in Jyn’s ward. Her cellmate, Kennel, is cynical but has a few funny things to say every now and then. 

Jyn is sure she will die here.

But she hasn’t felt this safe in years.

**Xenization**

The first time Jyn changes her name is the hardest. Jyn Erso is like a bad habit she has had all her life, and it takes a tremendous amount of force and effort to break it. She stows away first to Canto Bight, where she runs petty crimes for the rich folk who need people that willingly dirty their hands. It is evident that she had over stayed her welcome in the casino city when she is arrested and escaped twice.

She runs to Coruscant, stays a few months before deciding there’s nothing there for her. She hops from planet to planet, with a different name each time. Adding little white lies to her history; omits almost all the true bits. 

Jyn avoids looking in mirrors, unsettled by her own tired, empty eyes. Might as well be a corpse. She can’t remember when she stopped recognizing herself. 

**Yearning**

The pain of longing is like a thorny fist driving itself into her gut. The magnitude of the feeling wavers from something almost unbearable to tender and soft, and it rips open her heart. It feels like the hunger and thirst she endured when Saw Gerrera left her hiding and quivering in a turret shell. It feels like realizing Hadder was something much more and much different than any other man in her life had been. It feels like wanting to return to Lah’mu with both her parents. And when she gazes at the Captain, the feeling is crawling back into her mind and she is frightened by what might be sprouting inside of her. 

The feeling haunts Jyn all her life. She is weary of living with such burdens, but at the same time fears that without them she wouldn’t be able to recognize herself.

Jyn carries her grief in her back pocket, because to wear it on her sleeve makes her vulnerable. Jyn hates the feeling of yearning, but she decides she hates appearing weak more.

**Zeitgeber**

Jyn feels as though she can hear his thoughts shouting at her through his touch. She decides she likes the way his fingers feel as they comb through her hair. It reminds her of old friends and old fathers no longer in her realm. But he is there, and she decides he is enough.

She doesn’t have enough time to ask questions. There are so many questions, and Jyn realizes that she is not prepared to die. No part of her is. She squeezes tighter and the light is approaching.

His name gets stuck in her throat. She wants to talk to him. She wants more time. It’s too late, but she can’t fight the desire for more time.

She wants to leave traveling the galaxy behind her and settle down on a farm, where she would grow basic grains and vegetables. She wants to have a child, who she could also call Stardust. If it were a boy: Saw; a girl: Maia. She pictures planting flora with her curious child, who will never have to hide in a hole with a cold metal hatch looming over their head, who will never feel alone. She sees the Captain there as well, smiling. She thinks she can feel the roughness of his beard against her skin as he plants a kiss on her cheek. Their child looks up, happy to witness happiness. 

She wants to give more and be given more.

Jyn is shaking at this point, and she feels like wherever she looks, she is staring at the sun.

She feels the kyber crystal hanging by a string around her neck pulse soothingly between her body and his. She wonders if he finds its slow thrum calming, too. She wonders if he feels it at all.

“Cassian?” She can hardly recognize her own voice.

Jyn almost loses her balance as he pulls her closer, flusher against himself. He whispers in her ear, his lips briefly grazing her temple. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you. In the Force, in the afterlife, in whatever hell comes next.”

The light is overwhelming.

Jyn nods. She thinks it is peace in her heart.

Neither of them feel it, but together their bodies crumple and drift away with the light.


End file.
